


Home

by Serenti



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenti/pseuds/Serenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes when the walls seemed to cave in on her and the stone floor was ice cold to her touch she would pull her madras out on the balcony and sleep under the open sky. And when the feeling of not belonging was stronger than the importance of keeping up her appearance she would sneak down the stairs, through the main hall and like a shadow enter the garden and spend the night there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

Her advisors would never let her hear the end of it tomorrow Ellena though with a shiver as she waddled through the snow. She was actually slightly surprised over the fact that Cullen hadn’t sent half the Inquisitions forces to look for her already because there was no doubt in her mind that her advisors was fully aware over that she had left Skyhold, alone. After all, that’s what they had a Spymaster for in the first place.

Well, it wasn’t like she wasn’t allowed to leave Skyhold by herself, it was just… ill-advised. She was the “Inquisitor” and if something were to happen to her it would be problematic to say the least.

She hadn’t been able to help herself though. For all its magnificence Skyhold was still a pile of rocks. A very old and pretty pile of rocks on top of an ancient magic ritual site or something according to what she had gathered. But a pile of rocks nonetheless.

  
In the beginning she had been too caught up trying to save the world to notice. Truth to be told she had rarely been at Skyhold for a longer period of time, more often rummaging the lands trying to rid it of everything that posed a threat for its inhabitants. The few days or evenings she spent at the fortress were mostly filled with spending time with her companions, going through the equipment and the state of the fortress itself, or bent over the war table, trying to figure out what their next move should be.

But as time passed and Skyhold started to become actually inhabitable compared to the state they had first found it in, she started to take notice of how her friends’ personal spaces became more and more homely. How Sera would hoard things and put it all into her tiny little space however she felt like in a way that just blatantly screamed Sera at your face if you just bothered to take a look.

Dorian always made sure that the library’s bookshelves were constantly updated. Ellana had noticed that for all his wit and charm Dorian took great pride in sorting through the books and taking notes of what was missing in the collection, slipping Josie or Leliana a note every now and then with suggestions about what was needed.

How Solas would spend hours and hours painting the most fascinating frescos. Many times had she spent the day in his presence, sitting down and just observing the man working, delicately adding details after details as the picture slowly emerged in front of her.

Vivienne had of course made herself at home at the best spot possible, with Skyholds perhaps best view over both the mountains and the main hall itself. She knew that there had been other speculates, but a “Darling” and a few sharp-edged words later and the place was Vivienne’s in all but name.

And then there were Cullen’s little loft and Coles little corner where he liked to collect things in messy little piles.

She could go on forever.

She had tried to make her room hers. She had changed the decor so many times she was slightly confused as to just where Josie stored all her leftover beds, or just were the Antivian got all the money to buy it all in the first place.

But in the end it didn’t matter. She had for as long as she remembered slept out in the forest with her clan, surrounded by lush green and the fresh air. The smell of earth teasingly embracing you as you woke up as the sun rose.

She had a feeling that both Varric and Bull were at the same page as her. Varric had told her over a game of wicked grace once that he actually had lived at a Tavern for years, and Ellena came to assume that he preferred the liveliness of Skyhold’s main hall compared to the quietness of the room he had been given here.

She spent a lot of time in the Tavern after that, drinking and making the time pass before returning to her sleeping quarters late at night only to collapse into the bed and wake early the same morning.

Sometimes when the walls seemed to cave in on her and the stone floor was ice cold to her touch she would pull her madras out on the balcony and sleep under the open sky. And when the feeling of not belonging was stronger than the importance of keeping up her appearance she would sneak down the stairs, through the main hall and like a shadow enter the garden and spend the night there. Always making sure to wake up and return to her quarters before someone stumbled upon her in the early hours.

Even if she mostly left the political matters to Josie she had no problem imagine what kind of rumors it would create throughout Thedas if it was found out that the Herald of Andraste, like the savage elf she was, was sleeping under the bushes in the garden like an animal.

Every time she left on a mission it felt like a stone had lifted from her chest. Missions meant that she would be out in the free, sleeping under the stars in a camp together with her companions.

She felt at home then.

Ellena quickly realized that home would always be sharing a campsite with friends and family out in the free, and no silk sheets could ever change that.

She started to make a habit of returning to Skyhold in the early morning, get all the important stuff over with before leaving again before nightfall, arguing that it was “better to get the traveling over with and start the mission afresh together with the new day, rather than arriving tired and exhausted from traveling in the afternoon”, whenever someone raised an objection.

It had worked out well so far, until now that’s it. In preparation for their next task she and her companions had been holed up at the fortress for over a week and still counting. The more time passed the more trapped she felt within the stonewalls, and no amount of liquor and wicked grace could change that.

Her hands had been itching for the last couple of days until she had reached the point where it all had driven her nuts enough to just grab her weapon of the shelf and literally just march out of Skyhold’s front gates alone.

She needed to get away.

She had traveled the road to and from Skyhold more times she could count and she knew that just two hours down the mountain the forest took hold. Sparsely at first, but then ticker until the trees engulfed her, and it was first then she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding in.

In Skyhold it all became so very real. The breach, Corypheus. The fate of the world resting on her shoulders.

Inside Skyhold she was the Herald, but out here she was Lavellan.

She roamed the forest for hours with no specific destination in mind. She let her foots dig through the snow to touch the soil, her toes burrowing, feeling. She drank from the streams and ate whatever the forest offered her. She saw the animals rush through the vegetation in fear as she got too close, or she crept into the shadows and observed the creatures. At some point she had just laid down on the ground and just listened to the sound of the trees moving in the wind.

It wasn’t before the sky grew dark and her breathing turned to steam as it left her mouth that she realized that she should have started heading back hours ago. She had only planned to be gone for a short while. Just to recharge her batteries and then head back before anyone noticed she had left in the first place.

A ridiculous though. The guards stationed at the gate had let her through, and anyone believing that Leliana had no idea what was going in in every corner of the fortress at any given time was in for a big surprise.

It didn’t matter though. She had gone and that was that. She would just have to deal with the consequences once she returned. If it just wasn’t so bloody cold. It had been slightly warmer further down mountain while the sun was still shining, but right now she was freezing.

Shuddering she regretted having laid down in the snow for such a long period of time, her clothes slightly damp as a result as she kept moving forward, each step harder than the last as the snow grew deeper.

At some point during her ascent it had started to snow as well, lightly at first, the flakes melting almost as soon as they touched her heated skin, but the higher she climbed the more heavily it fell until it reached a point where she had a hard time even seeing the road in front of her. Ellena cupped her fingers in front of her mouth and breathed into them as she walked, trying to heat them up with the help of her breath.

Her ears were burning and her nose was running by the time she reached the gate. Her hair was filled with crystals and she was shaking, both from the cold and the exhaustion of fighting her way through the snow.

It was close to midnight and she fully understood the questioning looks she received from the guards. She offered them a weak excuse from her quivering lips as she passed them, doing her best to not seem too affected by the cold seeping into her bones. She was the Herald after all. She had an appearance to keep up.

The doors to the main halls were slightly ajar and she squeezed through, determined to not make any unnecessary noise and wake someone up by mistake. The warmth of the interior hit her full force as she entered, the air turning into fire over her skin. Her stiff limbs started to sting from within and she let out a short gasp of pain.

“Lethallin”

It wasn’t even a question, and she froze in place where she was standing, cursing under her breath as she heard soft footsteps from the adjoining rotunda and found herself turning towards the doorframe as Solas emerged with an unreadable expression on his face.

A moment passed as they stared at each other and Ellana felt both fear and relief wash over her at the same time as the elf studied her closely.

“Solas… what are you doing up at this hour?” she stuttered, biting her lips as it felt like someone was prickling her skin with a thousand needles all at once.

“I think the more important question here is, why are you?” he countered. “Where have you been dah’len?”

It was first then she was unable to contain the tears she had unknowingly held back for the last months. They fell silently against her blistering skin and she lifted a hand in confusion as she touched her wet cheek.

  
Solas didn’t say anything after that and neither did she. Instead he quietly followed her to her quarters, their footsteps echoing through the empty hall. Kind, gentle Solas that for some reason made the roof not seem like it was looming over her like a predatory ready to strike just by being by her side.

She was still shaking even after she had gotten out of her wet clothes and Solas had wrapped her up in a blanket. She sitting on the edge of the bed, trembling as the male wordlessly dried her hair for her.

“I am sorry,” the words came out a quiver, far weaker than she expected them too. “It’s just this place. It’s eating me from within Solas,”

“This place houses a lot of ancient magic. It is quite possible that the anchor allows you to unknowingly sense the traces of it,”

“No,” she shakes her head. “That’s not it. In here, it’s all so real. It’s more real in here than out there where the actual fighting takes place. Out there I am myself; I am able to help people, save them. And it feels great, like I make a difference. And then I come back here, dress myself in finery and every morning when I look into the mirror I have no idea who I am anymore.”

“Ah,”

“The only thing I ever wanted was to help people, but I am struck here, inside these walls putting on a mask and pretending to be someone I am not,” Ellena flopped back on the bed, burying herself under the covers. She felt the bed shift underneath her as Solas sat down, his back leaning against the headboard and she spared no time in snuggling up against his legs before lifting her head and placing her cheek on his thighs. She closed her eyes as he felt his long slender fingers burry themselves in her hair, slowly caressing her scalp as he spoke.

“We all wear masks lethallin. Both in here and out there. We all play a role, pretending to be someone we are not. To be able to live one’s life as just yourself is a luxury few men will ever get to experience. Sadly these few people seldom manages make a difference in this world,”

“What role are you playing then, Solas?” she asked with a yawn. As the warmth slowly returned to her body she was starting to feel the effects of her little adventure. She was tired. So very, tired.

“According to Dorian it appears that I am the apostate hobo,” She let out a small laugh. “Now go to sleep,”

And so she did.

And for the first time since all this mess began, with Solas radiating heat beside her she felt at home in Skyhold.


End file.
